


Tear Me Down

by Scriptor



Series: What Do I Do Now That You're Gone? [3]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: D/s undertones, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slight Bondage, Wax Play, threesome implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:34:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25006243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scriptor/pseuds/Scriptor
Summary: After Jon's elbow surgery AGAIN, he's in a very dark place. Luckily, Roman knows how to fix him.
Relationships: Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley/Roman Reigns
Series: What Do I Do Now That You're Gone? [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1458748
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Tear Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> This may be the last portion of this three part vignette series. I'd like to think these two are still getting up to some no-good stuff these days. Or maybe I'm just dreaming. :)

The phone’s ringtone interrupted some casual chatter as he drove away from the arena. “Ro, he’s in bad shape.” Renee’s voice surprised him; he hadn’t bothered to look at the phone before answering. He was stuck traveling to the next show with Buddy Murphy, since they were in a program together now. The guy wasn’t all bad but he didn’t know much about Roman’s life outside the ring and Roman intended to keep it that way.  
“Hey, what’s up?” he said to her, trying to play it real casual and hoping she could tell by his tone that he wasn’t alone.  
“He’s upset; the surgery went fine but you know, he wants to get back out there. He’s pissed about missing All Out.”  
“I’m on my way to White Plains now. I can possibly be there in a day or two. Can you delay him?”  
“I’ll do my best but he.... he’s asked for you, but he won’t tell you that. He’s... I don’t know but it might be as bad as it was before.” She was clearly worried for her husband and didn’t know what to do.  
“I’ll see what I can do, ok?” They wrapped up and as Roman hit the end button, Buddy questioned,  
“Everything good, man?”  
“Yeah, I just got someone, er uh, something to take care of.” 

Two days later, Roman begged off a couple house shows mid-week and booked a flight to Vegas. He could tell by the wavering of Renee’s voice that Jon was in shit shape; that he was back to beating himself up, to wallowing in the self-pity that comes with an injury. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as before but to have a relapse, Roman knew Jon was suffering. As he neared their suburban home, he texted Renee to let her know. They met in the driveway and she gave him a thankful hug. “Hey, I’m on my way to see some family then the next show. You got this, right? I’ve maybe never seen him so... reclusive, even though I’m here.”  
“I have some ideas.” he said reassuringly, lifting his bag to indicate that he had what it might take to bring Jon out of the depths he had clearly sunk to.  
“Good. I’m so worried and I just... can’t do what he needs.”  
“I know, babe. I’ll get him back for us, ok? You go do what you gotta do.”  
Renee leaned up and kissed his cheek, squeezed his hand and whispered ‘thank you’ before climbing into her car. 

Roman pressed the semi-open door wide, casting bright sun into a darkened entryway and living room. He had no idea if Jon knew Renee had called. He didn’t even know how he’d react to his presence. With a guy like that, you never know what you were dealing with, what his mood could be. Black and cynical, fun and playful, demented and scared. He ran the gamut every single time. Last time they’d been together, Jon had randomly shown up in his back seat to gift him with an earth-shattering blow job. That was a few weeks ago and so much had happened since. Jon sent some brief but detailed texts about the relapse, including one that said, ‘Need you.’ And that was it. Roman should have known to get to him sooner. 

Walking further into the house, Roman sought sound or movement and his ears pricked up when a gruff curse came from the other room. He went ahead and thought he’d announce his presence. “Jon? You here?” 

“Ro? Izzat you?” Jon sounded genuinely puzzled. 

“Yeah.” He walked farther down the hall and finally found his man in the bedroom, struggling with a lid to some pain cream and cursing to himself. The room was a mess and it looked like Jon had been throwing things in frustration.

Roman swooped in and took it from him. “Here, let me.” 

“Man I got it!” Jon protested angrily, still trying to hold onto the small jar, but it was easy to pry it from him. His arm was still in a sling and basically immobile while he recuperated. “Hey, don’t fight me.” Roman commanded and Jon backed down. He looked like a dejected puppy, just staring sadly at the place where he’d held the stuff a moment ago. Roman could tell Jon wanted to fight, to scream, to do anything to prove he wasn’t messed up but instead, he let Roman win the battle.

“I coulda done it.” he whispered defiantly. 

“I know you could. But so long as I’m here, let me help.” Roman dipped a couple fingers into the salve and indicated he’d apply. “Tell me where it hurts.” 

“’m ‘sposed to put it around here.” Jon slipped the injured arm out of the sling and pointed to his general elbow area. “But it doesn’t help that much. Nothin’ fucking does.” 

Roman carefully dabbed the stuff on Jon’s skin, allowing himself perhaps a bit more contact than was necessary for application. He’d missed him and wanted to feel him. 

After the cream was applied and rubbed in, Roman resituated his arm into the sling and squared up to stand in front of him and looked him in the eye. “Is it bad this time?” Roman knew how to level with him. 

“Fuck yes. I’m burnin’. I’m… I’m just...” Jon seethed with anger and self-pity.  
“I’m just so DONE. “ His voice wavered a little but Jon cleared his throat and mustered his confidence. “Not sure how long I can keep doing this back and forth thing. Wrestling all out then shelved with an injury. It’s too... too much to either side.” 

“I see.” Roman said, assessing. Jon got this far off look on his face and in his eyes when he was in this state. Roman had seen it before and never wanted to see it again. He began walking around Jon, side to side, looking him up and down. Jon lowered his lids, feeling the appraisal and knowing what would come soon enough. 

“Hmm.” Roman hummed. “Lay on the bed, on your back.” 

Jon toed off some slides he was wearing - the only other thing he had on besides the gym shorts - and gently got on the well-made bed, tossing some of Renee’s throw pillows to the ground. The number she liked to have was excessive to say the least. How many pillows do two people need, honestly? He sprawled back and took in Roman’s imposing figure. 

“Tell me, Jon,” Roman began, still pacing back and forth. “Tell me what you need.” 

Roman knew that Jon sometimes needed to say it. And Roman wasn’t taking chances either. With one injured arm, he’d have to play it safe. 

“I... I need to hurt. I need the pain.” Jon admitted, closing his eyes. 

“Hands?” 

“Yes.” 

“Whip?” 

“Yesss.” 

“How about the paddle?” Roman inquired. 

“Anything, Ro. Anything you want to do.” he said. Roman took in Jon’s appearance. A little bit of sweat had formed at his brow and his cock was already half hard, tenting his shorts. That’d done the trick. 

“So you want it hard? You want it rough?”

A strangled sound left Jon’s mouth. “I’ll take that as a yes, babe.”

Roman grabbed his duffel and took out a few lengths of cloth; maroon in color and super soft. Jon’s expression gave away that he approved and looked forward to the shackling that was about to happen. Roman approached the bed and let his hands trail down Jon’s thigh, his calf and to his ankle, spreading that leg wide and wrapping the cloth around his ankle and into the wooden slats of the bed frame. Jon hummed at the stretch in his leg, adjusted his back so he was more comfortable as Roman came around to the other side and repeated the action. As he tied the last ankle knot, making sure his handiwork would hold up but that he wasn’t really damaging anything, he slid the back of his hand all the way up Jon’s body, tracing a soft line from ankle to wrist, as he took the non-injured arm and affixed it to the head of the bed. There was a thrill in the amount of time it took to prepare him; there was also a sense of danger and illicitness in doing this in the bed Jon shared with his wife. Even though permission had been granted, it still felt wrong. Just thinking about it made Roman’s heart beat faster in anticipation.

“I’m leaving that arm alone.” Roman said, standing tall and assessing the light in the room. He closed one of the half-open blinds then stood a good bit away from the bed, taking off only his shirt. Jon’s eyes were wide, not knowing what would happen next. Normally Roman started with a good 5-10 spanks or maybe just a few whips to the backs of his thighs but no, not in this position. Roman reached into his pocket and presented another piece of fabric and this one went over Jon’s eyes, allowing him to breathe but plunging the room into darkness.

“Sit tight.” Roman said. He rummaged for some coconut oil in preparation. What he had in mind was something they’d only tried once and it sort of went awry. This time he was prepared. He rubbed some of the oil between his palms and began at Jon’s navel, spreading it all over his abdomen. He’d let his hair grow out so his chest was not exactly suited for Roman’s plan unless he took precautions. Slowly, sensuously, he rubbed oil all through Jon’s chest hair, all over his nipples, tweaking here and there, to which Jon responded with some low moans and anxious twists. “Ah ah, relax.”

“‘S good.” Jon admitted.

“I know, babe. Just wait.” Roman wiped his hands on a towel and got out the specialty candles he’d procured. Who knew there were candles made for this kind of play? They certainly didn’t the first time they experimented. Grabbing a lighter, he took to the wick and situated the first candle a little less than a foot above Jon, waiting for the wax to begin melting.

“Tell me, where is your pain?”

“In my arm.”

“Be specific.”

“Elbow, sir.”

“Move your focus away from it if you can. Let it go.” Roman slowly tipped the candle towards Jon’s body and allowed the hot wax to land a little above his belly button. The first searing drip caused Jon to arch up and exhale a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Ahh…” he sighed.

“Now where’s the pain?”

“You smug bastard.” Jon teased. He arched again. “More, please.” Roman moved higher, letting it drip just below each nipple then allowing just one small hot drop to hit the sensitive nub.

“Shiiit” Jon whispered.

“Tell me if it’s too much.” Roman allowed.

“‘M good.”

Roman dripped a little more, here and there, watching Jon’s cock kick beneath the fabric of his shorts as each burst of pain and heat hit his skin. He dotted Jon’s abdomen with the hot wax, taking immense pleasure in seeing how the sensation played out in Jon’s movements, in the way he contorted his face and mouth even beneath the partial cover. Jon mewled his pain and pleasure with each splash, each dotting of hot liquid that dried nearly upon contact but brought about the kind of distraction Jon was in need of.

This was only round one in Roman’s mind. He put the candle away and grabbed the old towel. With gentle hands, he warmed the wax that had cooled on Jon’s stomach and chest then slowly rubbed it away. He hoped Jon was enjoying this, the way Roman’s touch worshiped him. He took pleasure in gazing upon the other man’s body when Jon couldn’t see his lingering look. He liked when Jon didn’t shave like he had for many years, especially when they were in SHIELD. Roman appreciated the natural look, and the way it tapered down to his belly; the way his waist got smaller then flared at his hips again. He slid his finger into the waistband of Jon’s shorts, went from one hip to the other, gently brushing the tip of his cock as he moved. 

“Now, I am going to untie you but follow my directions, ok?”

“Yes, sir.”

Roman was thrumming with need, with the power of the control he held over Jon. But as he very well knew, Jon was the driver here. Ro would never do anything he didn’t want; he let Jon orchestrate what transpired between them. In his hands he had the power to smooth the rough edges of his life. It was a responsibility he did not take lightly.

As he first removed the eye blind, Roman kept his mind on the task but knew all too keenly that Jon’s gaze stayed on him, like he was mesmerized by the monotony, the mundaneness of unfastening the bonds. It was an exercise in patience too; in their sexual past they had a tendency to get ahead of themselves and barrel head first into a fast fuck because they wanted each other too much. But this was also a trial, a training, a way to get Jon out of the slump. Sure, he seemed ok now but Roman saw the way he first looked at him as he’d walked in on him struggling. This was a deep-seated disgust with himself. A depression that an athlete gets when the one thing he knows he excels at and the one thing that he knows he CAN do, is taken from him suddenly.

“Lift up; these are coming off.” Jon obliged then he was bared entirely to the other man.

“Ok babe, let’s get you upright.” Roman offered his arm to Jon’s good side and helped him stand. At attention, Jon waited. Roman reached over to the bag he’d brought and grabbed a long wide paddle. Without warning or pretense, Roman accosted Jon, shoving him face first into the wall and yanked his good arm up behind his back. He used his weight and heft to keep Jon smashed against the wall.

“Now what the FUCK is your problem? Why have you been acting like a little bitch?” he growled, close to his ear. Jon just mumbled, his face pressed too much into the wall to get any coherent words out.

Roman angled his arm against Jon’s on his back and held him in place then laid into his ass, hard, with the paddle. Jon grunted and sagged a little. “You deserve this, don’t you?” he asked and Jon nodded best he could against the wall.  
“What’s that?”  
Jon squeaked out a ‘yes’, which was all the consent Roman needed to continue. He held him up and continued his assault. In the back of his mind he knew he didn’t want to take it too far but the more he thought about Jon acting this way, making Renee feel like that, the angrier he became. He stepped back and landed a solid thwack to Jon’s upper thighs. He had to peel himself away, take a forced step back, and calm down. The collective sound of their ragged breaths filled the otherwise silent air for long moments. But this was a scene that they’d played out before, that always worked for Jon. He needed the anger and admonishment; to be broken down and put back together.

Jon’s ass was bright red, his skin showing the imprint with each hit, the last two the hardest by far. Roman had to admit that he used a lot of force and he should feel bad but he was also getting off on seeing the pain he’d brought him- the beauty of the red against white skin. His man was a marvel, so complicated and cagey at times but yet, so compliant and submissive the next. A sob broke the silence and Roman realized Jon was crying; he’d broken already. In a second Roman was back up and there by his side, holding him. Jon hadn’t even turned away from the wall yet but Roman made him, forcing him to look him in the eye.  
“It’s ok, baby I’m here.”  
Tears streaked Jon’s face and the emotion was real and raw. “Sorry, sir. So sorry.” Jon whispered. Roman crushed his mouth to his, swallowing the gulps and gasps. Their contact was messy and hurried and encompassed the pain and sorrow and emptiness that grew out of this weird ass relationship they continued to pour themselves into, month after month. 

Jon let Roman lead the kiss, but started to give back a little, swiping his tongue against Roman’s, against his teeth, nipping at his bottom lip. He pulled back for a moment in a sobering pause. “Did she call you?” he asked, already knowing.

Roman nodded curtly and looked into Jon’s doleful eyes, hoping to convey just how much he meant to him.

“I’m sorry I’m such a burden to you guys.” Jon said softly, looking down to the floor.

Roman tipped Jon’s face up to his, a tender finger under his chin. “Hey, that’s not it at all. You think I woulda come all the way out here if I thought you were a burden? No way. You mean too much to me and I’m doing this for you, for us. For her. Because whatever this fucked up relationship is, I don’t want to lose it.”

Tears threatened to fall again and Jon had to scrub the back of his hand across his eyes to stop them. He didn’t deserve any of this but here he was, the center of the universe for not one but two people. Inside his mind, he warred with the normal society views of what relationships “should” be and what he felt for them both. Some days it was easier than others; living a married life, only having to work one or two days a week at his all-time favorite thing, wrestling. And some days he hated missing Roman; he felt like a huge chunk of his life was abruptly absent. He’d wake up and feel less than whole. But he stopped with the pity party and looked - really looked - at the man standing in front of him, a man who allowed this crazy fucked up threesome thing and always returned to him again and again. He leaned into the other man’s embrace, let his strength encompass him.

*************  
Roman heard the phone buzz beside them but his brain was fuzzy as he tried to come out of a deep sleep. The first sensation was soreness in his thighs and hips; he and Jon had gone at it pretty rough for most of the evening and Roman smiled as the memories played in his mind. But the phone buzzed again and he flopped a hand out to grab it off the nightstand. As he unlocked it, he heard the familiar and reassuring sound of Jon’s soft snoring, a sound that he cherished as the other man dozed peacefully beside him. The text was from Renee:

How is he?

Good. I think he’s back on track.

Thank you SO much, Ro. It means so much.

I know

Roman put the phone down and nestled in behind Jon, basking in the warmth of the other man’s body, knowing the pain and compassion he could give made a world of difference - their world. And really, what else mattered?


End file.
